‘Memory ripe for recognition’

Published: Sunday, June 16, 2013 at 4:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Thursday, June 13, 2013 at 3:06 p.m.

Grady Vaughn built his own home from carefully selected lumber. I watched him. He is my neighbor and friend. He will be 100 years old on Sept. 15.

I sit in his living room and observe family pictures — pictures of wedding anniversaries, of children and grandchildren.

There is a large picture of a scene from Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet.” Grady is a reader. He enjoys reading about Abraham Lincoln. He is currently reading a collection of historic speeches.

I ask him, being a citizen of Henderson County, to talk about things he is most proud of. Without hesitation he says, “I was just talking to Grady Jr., and I told him how proud I am of our downtown and the preserved Historic Courthouse. We could have been just another sleepy town.”

Grady has two sons, Grady Jr. and Michael — both lawyers living in California.

I want to hear my neighbor reflect on his rich life. There are pockets of memory ripe for recognition. He grew up on Seventh Avenue. In 2012, Chris Nevel, the Heritage Museum’s videographer, filmed Mr. Vaughn as he recalled what it was like to grow up here in Hendersonville and attend local schools. The interview is now a part of museum archives.

I particularly enjoy hearing Grady tell of his encounters with the “Carolina Special,” the luxury train that connected the coastal area of South Carolina to the Midwest.

The boy Grady would stand in the station yard and observe travelers of the train dining in “grand elegance.” He dreamed of places beyond the mountains. He remembers when Seventh Avenue was a dirt road, when the road opened to Bat Cave. He recalls a family trip once made by his family and the dust they all breathed along the way.

Grady Vaughn has felt loneliness since his wife, Ella (Mills), died several years ago, but, while I was there for my short visit, he answered four calls from members of his family. Each of the calls was a “checkup call.” “Just wanted to see if you’re doing all right.”

Grady lives alone with only his cat, Roscoe, but it must be gratifying to know that so many people love and respect him.

His granddaughter, Jennifer Tankersley, prepares his meals and sees to his needs. Still, Grady Vaughn maintains his mountaineer independence. This morning, Jennifer took him for his monthly B12 shot. This afternoon he worked his flower garden.

Our conversation turns to his early work at the G&S Grocery, which once stood on the corner of Locust Street and Seventh Avenue. “Benjamin” Sims worked there as a young boy. Grady recognized B’s generosity and caring, his love for people.

Grady Vaughn was about 5 years old when World War I ended. He remembers going with his father to Main Street to take part in the great local celebration that followed Armistice. There was, according to Grady, a huge bonfire across from the Hicks Justus residence. The Skyland Hotel stands where the Justus home once stood. Dr. Justus operated the Justus Pharmacy.

Grady Vaughn remembers when drivers parked their vehicles down the middle of Main Street. He remembers the joy he felt when his father bought the family’s first car, a new 1925 Ford.

Mr. Vaughn (I have difficulty calling him Grady) went to school with my parents. He is writing his memory of dismantling the first Presbyterian Church — the pre-Civil War building. One of the timbers from that building serves as the mantelpiece in the Vaughn home. Grady has one of the original pews. He respects history and heritage.

When asked if he recalls the great flood of 1916, he hesitates. His response is delayed. He lived on a knoll off Seventh Avenue that provided a view of the devastating flood. He can describe the great expanse of water.

But Mr. Vaughn is careful to remind me that he could not have been much older than 4 years old. He wonders how much of that memory is the memory of others.

He asks me if I read the Times-News article about third-grade education. He is an advocate for the teaching of reading — the need to connect the child to the written word.

Roscoe hides under Grady’s bed. He doesn’t like strangers.

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